


but no cigar

by rhysgore



Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Bathing/Washing, Fluff, Light Angst, Other, nb guardian, post-crown of sorrows
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-06
Updated: 2020-10-06
Packaged: 2021-03-08 09:48:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26849935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhysgore/pseuds/rhysgore
Summary: After they've fixed the Leviathan's Hive problem, the Guardian can't help but worry.
Relationships: Calus/Guardian (Destiny)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 19





	but no cigar

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by a lot of things, but mostly calus' royal pools raid dialogue. this is fairly self-indulgent but this guy clocked me so hard it's frankly ridiculous.

After they’d finally put Gahlran down, the Guardian went back to the Leviathan’s main deck. Their Ghost had healed the injuries from the protracted fight, well enough that the only remaining evidence was the blood and viscera caked into their armor, and the sulfurous smell of Hive that lingered on their person. Still, they were silent as they traversed the golden halls, gazing fixedly off into the horizon, not truly seeing anything in front of them.

They remained silent even as Calus welcomed them back. He’d sent away all the retainers and court officials that normally hung around him, and his rich laughter echoed around the throneroom in the absence of anything else. When the Guardian didn’t respond, his laughter petered out.

“What’s wrong, champion?” With a sweep of his hand, he beckoned the Guardian closer, and they obeyed, trudging forwards. “You just accomplished something great, and rid me of a great misfortune in the same stroke. You should be celebrating!”

The Guardian still seemed at loath to say anything. Instead, they walked up the steps of Calus’ ostentatious throne, and wrapped their arms around his leg in the closest facsimile of a hug they could manage. Resting their still-helmeted head against his knee, they breathed out a shaky sigh, clinging to the warm limb beneath them with something approaching desperation.

If Calus was surprised by the sudden intimacy, he didn’t show it. He allowed the Guardian to hug him, patting their back gently with one huge hand.

His clawed thumb brushed against them from shoulder to waist, and came away tacky with Hive blood. It was neither unusual nor unexpected, but unpleasant nonetheless, and lacking a place to discreetly wipe it away, Calus withdrew his hand, instead using it to tilt up the Guardian’s chin so he could look them in the eye-- as much eye as he could see through their helmet, anyway.

“Oh, Little Light…” The Guardian could feel their body vibrating with the deep rumble of his voice. “If you don’t want to celebrate just yet, you could simply say so. I have other ways of showing my appreciation, you know. Perhaps we could start with a bath, and then work our way from there.”

-

If the Leviathan’s royal pools were excessively ornate, they still paled in comparison to Calus’ personal bath, a tub the size of a small swimming pool reserved exclusively for him and the occasional guest. The Guardian had been given full permission to make full use of it whenever they pleased, but they still rarely found themselves there without Calus’ company. Normal Cabal-sized facilities were already too big for them, and Calus didn’t believe in doing anything without excess.

Still, they couldn’t deny it was  _ luxurious.  _ The water was always kept at perfect temperature, and the variety of tonics, oils, and other miscellaneous tinctures mixed into it never failed to relax their aching muscles after a long day’s hunt.

Even so, the Guardian was quiet as they stripped methodically out of their armor and the thin, flexible garments they wore underneath it. They placed it in a pile by the side of the bath-- a servant would take it to be cleaned after they’d finished-- and, now naked, dipped a toe into the gently churning water to test it. Finding it silky and warm as usual, they lowered themselves into the tub, taking a seat on one of the ledges inside of it that Calus had installed for visitors of their stature. Head and neck above the water, they closed their eyes and tried to relax.

They knew Calus had entered the bath when the water sloshed heavily around them, rising a solid inch to adjust to the sudden addition of mass. The emperor sighed as he settled, naked, stretching his body out comfortably by the Guardian’s side.

“Is this not better?” He asked. “I don’t wish to deride your good work, but the stench of dead Hive is hardly a pleasant one.”

The Guardian couldn’t help but laugh at that, a sound that Calus took notice of immediately.

“Ah, so you  _ do  _ hear me,” he said, chortling fondly. “Good, good. Now, would you care to tell me why it is, exactly, that you’ve been silent when you should rightly be celebrating?”

It never ceased to be surprising to them how gentle he could be-- that the same man who had run them ragged with psiionic blasts could so carefully brush through their hair, pushing the few wet strands stuck to their forehead away from their eyes. The Guardian turned their face towards his hand, nuzzling against it.

Taking comfort in the fact that he was there at all.

Calus may have been possessed of many vices, but impatience was, thankfully, not among them. He indulged the Guardian’s need for his touch, letting them move over in the bath until they were half sitting in his lap, leaning against the solid, familiar weight of his body.

Finally, they spoke.

“The... crown,” they murmured, voice rough. “It was meant for you, wasn’t it?”

Calus’ hand paused for a moment. “Ah,” he said. One syllable heavy with the weight of understanding. “Yes. It was.”

The Guardian nodded. “The entire time I was down there, that’s all I thought about. If you hadn’t taken precautions, if you’d rushed things just a little bit…” 

Silence in the bathroom as they both considered it. The Guardian noticed, for the first time, that they were trembling. It seemed almost silly that after everything they’d faced they could still be shaken, but shake they did.

“Your fears are not without reason, Little Light,” Calus told them, after a moment. “Gahlran was bred to be as strong as any of us. That which corrupted him could easily have taken me had I borne it.” As he spoke, Calus gently massaged their scalp, easing out some of the clumps of Hive viscera that had matted into their hair. “But what’s to be gained by focusing on that now? By allowing yourself to be concerned with what  _ didn’t  _ happen?”

“I know. But--”

“Shh.” Shifting in the bath, Calus drew them closer, cupping them to his stomach. The water sloshed around them, warm and silky against their skin. “All things die. You and I have never let this truth stand in the way of enjoying today. The bitterness of it only serves to make sweet pleasures sweeter.”

He was right, of course. The Guardian knew it-- knew he wouldn’t be troubled by how close he’d come to being under the Witch Queen’s control. How close he’d been to being the target of their next hunt.

“I don’t want you to die,” they said. “It wouldn’t be  _ right _ if you weren’t there at the end.”

“And so you protect me. You root out my enemies, and you kill them. You’ll find this Witch Queen too, won’t you?”

The Guardian inhaled, sharply. “I will,” they said.

“Good. Then please, for both of our sakes, don’t trouble yourself over a ‘might have’.”

They must have still seemed troubled, because the next thing they knew, Calus was lifting them out of the water, pulling them up to eye level for a kiss. It was as all of their kisses were; messy, inexact, the both of them fumbling to get into a position that was comfortable, but it was a familiar mess, one that made the Guardian’s shoulders slump as they finally relaxed.

“Are you feeling more up to a celebration now?” Calus asked them when he pulled back. His black eyes gleamed with his usual joy, the mirth extending to his wide, toothy grin.

“Mm. Maybe something on the smaller side,” they replied, unable to resist the urge to smile back. “Just the two of us?”

Calus laughed, the sound deep, rich, and thoroughly comforting. “That,” he said, “can  _ certainly  _ be arranged.”


End file.
